Asking For A Friend

I have no clue what college is really like.

That thought crosses my mind weekly. This is why:

Mask

Policy Path

Quarantine

Snitch

Room capacity

Gathering size

Asynchronous

Close contacts

Testing (not the academic kind)

And

6 feet apart

These words defined my first semester as a student at Middlebury. These words are why I am living in South Carolina right now. These words are why I have no idea if I ever want to go back.

This was my daily morning routine:

BURMP, BURMP, BURMP!!!!!!

Waking up, I check my phone to see what I missed in the nine hours that I was asleep. Just like the past 6 months, the only new information is CNN’s, “CDC warns of a second wave”, and which NFL player has to be quarantined next. Nothing new, all the same, one cycle, repeating over and over like the clock on the Old Chapel. Getting out of bed I reach for my clothes. They are already lying on the floor, in perfect reaching distance from the top of my bed, ready to go again from the previous day. Gray champion sweatpants, same tone Middlebury sweatshirt, I am primed for a full day of class. Realizing that my FYS begins in just five minutes, I comb through my endless supply of rectangular, canvas shields, grab one, and sprint to the men’s room to brush my teeth. With just a few minutes to spare, I rush to my classroom. The clock keeps ticking. I sprint into the room, sit down at a chair, and flip open my laptop. Meeting ID: 201–829–184, Password: philosophy. Mini boxes of what I am told are my peers pop up on my 15” by 12” screen as the clock hits 9:35. The beige cement wall smacked in front of me is my scenery for the next seven hours.

One thought has lingered in my head when thinking about next fall. It’s not about the Covid restrictions or lack thereof, not how different dining hall options will be, not even how excited I am to finally play football. This thought is different. It is dumb, insignificant. It is simple, common. It is unique, scary. It is telling, eye-opening. Why when I am sitting with the brand-new crop of rising freshmen, eating lunch in Atwater after a long, hot preseason practice, will I be left speechless when they ask like all first-years do: What is Middlebury like? Or, which building is Voter? Maybe, do a lot of students go to the library? Possibly, what does a usual Saturday night look like? And lastly, do you like it here?

An introduction to a Junior is the only help I can provide.

Constantly lingering, when will the questions stop?

Do you like it here?

Do you belong here?

Is this the place for you?

Every single day I ask myself these……… When will I get an answer?

The time is all blurred together, but I think it was in early November. The night began like all the rest.

“Slammed home by James!” rings throughout Allen 105 as I extend my lead to ten.

“I got next game”, Sean calls out, claiming the following game of NBA 2K20. Not that anyone else is around anyway.

“Maybe next time”, I chirp at Liam as my record against him extends to 384–286. “Nothing better than some Xbox and microwave mac and cheese on a crisp Midd night am I right?”

“Hey only 12 and a half more days”, Sean preaches.

“Thank the Lord”, all three of us respond.

All of a sudden, a stampede can be heard outside the door.

“BANG!” “BANG!” “BANG!”

Opening the door, ten unknown faces appear in front of us. We quickly come to realize that these are our hallmates, only recognizing them from the rare run-ins in the bathroom.

“IT’S SNOWING, GRAB SOME CARDBOARD! LET’S GO, TIME TO SLED!”

That’s all we needed to hear. Behind our closed blind, a famed Middlebury dumping had begun and already covered the grounds with five inches of snow. Grabbing our jackets, hats, and of course some slabs of cardboard, we joined the herd and ran outside.

Among the snowman building, dumpster-sledding, snow hurling, tackling, slipping, freezing, and screaming, I felt for the first time what the guides sold to me on my tour, what the remaining sophomores left on campus harped about every Tuesday dinner, what I dreamed of when first driving down Old Chapel Road. Never at another place would I get into a two-hundred-person snowball fight at 2:00 AM with students from all different classes. Never at another place would my entire dorm, amidst below-freezing temperatures, exams around the corner, and pandemic depression, run around and tackle each other into mounds of fresh, Vermont powder like elementary school kids on a snow day. All the smiles, all the laughter, all the fun, all the love, for one hour on that freezing, snowy night, I felt right, I felt comfortable, I felt happy, I felt….

Home.

Then I woke up the next morning, and the one after that, and the one after that. Crazy how it only took three days to crack the calendar back open and restart the countdown towards departure.

So, what is Middlebury to me?

Middlebury to me is meeting a group of friends that I already know will last forever. It is only hanging out with two of them at a time. Middlebury is participating in discussions with the smartest professors and peers there are. It is holding these discussions on screens. Middlebury is playing with your teammates that you already know are family. It is practicing with them without a ball. Middlebury is walking down a quad and receiving a greeting and a smile from anyone who walks by. It is believing that a smile exists under their mask. Middlebury is hikes near Dunmore, dives at the quarry, “Sweet & Sassy” thumbs-and-toes, and weekly rounds at Ralph Myre. Middlebury is hours of Netflix, more of sleep, brown-bag lunches, and weekly tests at Virtue. Middlebury is smiles, frowns, laughs, tears, love, hate, excitement, and depression.

Which is it?